


Secrets beneath the Surface

by black_telephone (orphan_account)



Series: Droplets of Blood [2]
Category: Dexter (TV), Dexter Series - All Media Types, Dexter Series - Jeff Lindsay
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, F/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Off screen death of an animal, Serial Killers, mention of rape, psychopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/black_telephone
Summary: "There are no secrets in life: just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface."..She wonders about secrets.Secrets that are not really secrets. Just facts. Just truth lying in the open for the whole world to see. You just have to look at it the right way. Secrets which are so obvious, so radiant that they are like big bright neon lights. Secrets hidden in plain sight…..





	Secrets beneath the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter.  
> Repost from ff. net

.

.

_"There are no secrets in life: just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface."_

.

.

She doesn't figure it out right away. Despite the cop in her, she doesn't figure it out for a long time. She's still not sure that she has figured it out.

.

.

The damn dog keeps on barking and barking and Deb is this close to going out to their neighbor's house and strangling it with her bare hands. Her mother is very sick and all she wants is a bit of good night's sleep and the damn dog just won't shut up.

Later, her mother being sick wouldn't be so eventful for her, but right now, Deb is still very young and though she is young, her instincts are telling her something is wrong.

Her Dad is taking care of her Mom and she just wants to watch a few moments of TV and Dexter is looming in the room and staring out the window with something scary in his eyes and the damn dog won't shut up!

.

She doesn't know what but Dex is humming something and she just snaps, "Will you shut up?"

She is feeling uneasy and queasy and Mom isn't here to make it all go away.

"Okay." He says, and promptly keeps quiet.

She is still very young and naive but even she knows that it is not an appropriate response for boys his age. Boys his age are supposed to be nagging and irritating and Dex is just quiet and accommodating. And though she doesn't analyze this till years later, the young girl still knows that it is not 'normal'. And the abnormality of the whole night is stifling her.

"What is wrong with you?" Deb snaps.

"I don't know what you mean." Comes a quiet reply.

Somehow it pisses her off more and she snorts through her nose, "You're such a freak!"

She is switching off the TV and the moonlight is filtering through the windows and Dad is nowhere to be seen and Mom's coughs can be heard throughout the house and she is stomping up the stairs to her bedroom and the stupid dog won't stop barking and Dex's eyes are scary and she feels uneasy and-

"I don't know what you want me to do." Dex replies from the foot of the stairs.

She turns around and is about to give him a piece of her mind when the barking of the dog gets louder. "God! I wish somebody would just kill the damn dog!" She exclaims in agitation. She is about to tell Dex how much of a 'weirdo' he is when she catches him looking out of the window to the neighbor's yard with a sort of longing in his face… Yearning, even. It terrifies her, so instead she just walks back into her bedroom and snuggles into her favourite blanket. She is a big girl now and she knows that there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet, yet she feels afraid.

Because the night is heavy and oppressing and the moon is full and there is something in Dexter's eyes.

.

She falls asleep after sometime. She doesn't notice how the barking has ceased or how the night had fallen silent.

.

.

It is strange but sometimes she has these weird dreams. The only person she would trust blindly in this world is Dex, yet the dreams continue to haunt her subconscious.

.

She is lying on a cold hard metallic table and she can feel her skin sticking to the damp metal of the table. Something is binding her. Her chest, arms, hips and legs bound to the table by some unknown material. Something smooth and crinkly. And she is naked but she can't move or cover herself up. And Rudy is standing on her left side, stroking her hair lovingly and he leans close and tells her that he loves her over and over again, with his breath smelling minty and his fingers tracing a blazing trail. His fingers searing into her skin, leaving marks (fingerprints!).

.

_A partial-fucking-print!_

.

And he tells her he loves her over and over again. But instead of reassuring, it feels ominous and she feels cold and clammy and she tries to move but she can't. Something is binding her and she is thrashing on the cold metal table, sweat pouring off her body and sticking to her skin…

Suddenly she realizes there is one more presence in the room. And to her right stands Dexter!

She is about to tell him to save her and that Rudy is the motherfucking ice-truck killer but her voice gets stuck in her throat and she can't utter a word.

Dex is looking at her with kind eyes but his eyes are shining with something evil and she wants to warn him against the ice-truck killer when she sees something in his hands shine. It is a big shiny knife and suddenly the room feels colder.

Dexter looks at her and raises his hand and points the knife right above her heart and she is wants to scream 'Dex, what the fuck are you doing?' but she can't get the words out and Dex is looking at her with a strange kind of yearning.

.

And he says softly, regretfully, "No… Not Deb. I'm too fond of her."

And then he plunges the knife into her heart.

.

She wakes up in her bed in fucking sweats and it has been years since the ice-truck killer but she still has these dreams. And it is senseless and manic and she just needs something to drink which will knock her out flat till the next morning, but she always feels uneasy after the dream. Hell, a lot more than uneasy, she feels downright scared… Because the look in Dex's eyes in her dream was the same one he bore on the night the dog went missing.

.

.

.

The Bay Harbor Butcher Case is emotionally exhausting. Something about the fucking psycho ruffles her feathers. She feels everything is wrong.

While Dex is off fucking the little Ms. Pardon-my-tits, she is becoming increasingly aware of her growing attraction/admiration/crush/respect/feeling towards Special Agent Lundy and she is very happy to continue in denial because that is one heavy truckload of shit that she is not ready to deal with yet.

But most importantly something about this case is unsettling her and she really doesn't know what. It is not scary (not yet) and she has already seen much more disturbing shit, so it isn't really repulsion that she feels towards this case. She feels connected. As if she is also a missing piece in this puzzle.

So, she listens to Mozart and tries to learn something from the zen-like wisdom of Lundy and she understands. In a weird morbid way, she understands that the Bay Harbor Butcher, or the Dark Defender, or whatever the hell else the motherfucking psycho is called, was righting wrongs. In an even more wrongful way. But he was killing off criminals.

And for a split second, it reminds her of her dad, Harry.

She shakes her head to clear it and tries to find some real leads in the case.

.

It was Doakes.

Deb was never really fond of Doakes because of his animosity towards Dex and the other Lab rats, but he was an agreeable bastard. She always felt that Doakes was a good guy. A slightly egotistical, rude, arrogant person maybe but still a good guy.

All evidence points to the fact. She knows that. She knows that. Yet...

Well, firstly, Doakes didn't really have a boat or yacht with which he could easily dispose of the body. He didn't possess the technical know-how to chop up all those bodies.

All evidence points to the fact that Doakes was the Bay Harbor Butcher.

.

Anyway, she doesn't have time to ponder over a closed case. The crazy psycho vampiric arsonist bitch is still at large, and she would fucking well make sure that the pale creep is caught.

.

.

.

_"It doesn't matter what I do… Or what I choose… I am what is wrong… I'm b-broken."_

_"No…It's me. I am."_

.

.

Lundy died.

And she couldn't do a fucking thing. She could only watch.

**_Lundy died._ **

.

.

_I am what is wrong._

.

.

It feels finally good to solve the Trinity killer case. It feels good to rip the sheep's clothing off another wolf. They haven't caught him yet. But, they know who he is. And they will.

.

.

_"It doesn't matter what I do... Or what I choose… I am what is wrong. Harry was right. This is fate…"_

.

.

_"It was me."_

.

.

She gets it. She really does. But sometimes her brother can be fucking stupid. What the hell was he thinking? Saying, "It was me." She gets the whole guilt thing. She really does. When Lundy died, the only thing that kept her from plunging into a world of revenge and insanity was her brother. He held her tightly and grounded her. Making sure that she didn't drift into the sea of anger and revenge. And also made sure that she didn't sink into the never ending pit of depression. She knows how it feels. She knows how it feels to think that you were the harbinger of misfortune. She knows how it feels to think that you bring nothing but pain to all those who love you and whom you love. She knows the weight of irrational guilt gripping every inch and every fiber of your body. Till you believe it to the core that you were the cause.

So, she gets the "It was me" thing. She really does. Hell, she had gone through it. So she understood it. But that doesn't mean others do. They would take it in the wrong sense. They would start doubting. Bloody fuckers. What do they know about losing the one you love to murder? Right before your very own eyes.

.

.

.

_"Dad once told me that some people didn't deserve to be alive."_

.

.

She knows that she had done the world a favor by taking out assholes like the Fuentes Brothers. She knows that it was a logical and accurate decision to put a bullet through his fucking head. A real cop's decision.

What she didn't expect was the lack of guilt. In all the books and TV shows, all the good cops feel remorse even after killing the most evil psychopathic guy. She doesn't.

She doesn't feel even a twinge of guilt. Not even the slightest bit. In fact, she feels glad that she has taken out the fucker. If given a chance to do it all again, she would do it again exactly the same way. She relished pulling the trigger and knowing that the bastard was gonna die. She doesn't feel guilt. And she wonders whether that makes her a bad cop? Does that make her a bad person?

.

.

_"Harry once told me that some people deserve to die."_

.

.

It feels good that Dex doesn't think it's too cruel of her to not feel remorse. It feels good to have Dexter's approval. It feels good to know that she would have had Dad's approval. And though Dexter has never killed anyone, she feels understood as Dex talks. She wonders why.

.

.

.

She wanted to fucking kill Quinn. She wanted to cut his throat and make him choke on his own blood. What the fuck did he think he was doing? How could he sleep with her and spread shit about her brother behind her back? Who the bloody fuck did he think he is?

.

Later when they have sorted this all out and they are busting their asses on the Barrel Girls' Case, she would allow her mind to wander…

Trinity killed young single girls on the bath tub not older married women. And when he did kill the women, he staged it as a suicide and he always chose his victims so that the women had two children – a girl and a boy, not three. The victimology and M.O seemed all messed up in this case.

She doesn't even consider for a second what Quinn suggested. She doesn't doubt for the tiniest of seconds that Dex had anything to do with this. Dex adored his wife and was in very much in love with her. He would never ever hurt her or any innocent person.

Which leaves only one option : there was a specific reason as to why Trinity changed his M.O in the last kill. Maybe… maybe, somebody provoked him.

.

.

.

The Barrel Girls' case is turning out to be a very tiring one. She feels emotionally exhausted. She hasn't felt this way since the Butcher case. Honestly, she doesn't really want to catch Number 13 and her accomplice. What she actually wants to do is to put a bullet right through the heads of all the cocksuckers who did such shit to the girls. Twelve girls dead. Number 13 on the prowl.

Frankly, if she could grab two fucking pom-poms and cheer for the Vigilante killers, she would. But she is a cop and she has got a job to do. And for the first time in her life, she really wants to quit a case.

.

.

.

It is during the Barrel Girls' Case that she starts putting two and two together. It is then that she is looking back on her life and starting to read those big blaring Neon signs exposing the secret of their life.

It starts with the 'tenant'.

.

She knows about grief and moving on. And she is really not in a position to judge. If it is working who is she to poop on his parade? She says the same to Dex and he becomes uncomfortable. That is when she starts suspecting.

The way Dex is completely unsettled may just be him adjusting to the single life once again after Rita passed away.

But it is the 'tenant' that tingles her instincts. The scar on the 'tenants' back was partially hidden by her clothing, but the edge of the deep scar poked out from underneath her top and Deb's eye immediately caught it.

Lumen. That is her name. The name of the tenant.

.

The mysterious way only the CD #13 got damaged only intensifies her doubt. She is already running the idea of vigilante killers on her head and though right now everybody is laughing at her, she knows that she is right.

.

Though she feels queasy and uncomfortable throughout the case, it isn't till she stands in front of the Vigilante Killers separated by a thick sheet of polythene that she understands the full implication of her doubts and hunches.

.

.

.

_"Don't move. I said don't fucking move."_

_"But it isn't my decision to make. I am going to call this in. This place will be swarming with cops in an hour. If I were you I would be gone by then."_

.

.

.

She doesn't know why but the fuzzy figure of the two people standing on the other side of the dirty polythene sheet looks vaguely familiar. The woman's figure isn't familiar, but the guy's (the husband, boyfriend, brother, whatever) figure, his built, structure, his body language everything feels intensely familiar.

She doesn't know what to do. Number 13, the miracle, is standing on the other side and she doesn't think she has it in her to call this in. She can practically smell the fear coming off them and her mind flashes back to the videos she has seen. Those horrendous films were agonizing for her to watch, she can't imagine how anyone could endure, let alone survive it. Twelve women, tortured, brutally raped and killed. One. Just one of them escapes and hunts down the bloody motherfuckers. If that isn't justice, if that isn't fate, she doesn't know what is. How the hell was she going to turn them over if she wanted a good night's sleep ever again? Fucking A.

She is still saying something (she is really just saying anything that comes into her mind) and there is suddenly a movement on the other side of the plastic sheet…

 

A slight flutter of the foggy plastic sheet.

A clang of a bullet whizzing through air.

 

She yells, "I said fucking don't move!"

The guy flinches and... she recognizes him.

Dexter… She almost calls out his name. But she doesn't. Suddenly everything makes sense. The 'tenant'. Her scars. The tampered evidence. Atonement for Rita. Love…

And she breathes out. Her body trembles. "If I were you, I'd be gone by then." She yells out and walks backwards… Walks away. It takes all of her will power to not pull back the dirty polythene sheet and find out for sure who is behind that.

For the first time in her life, she feels that she is as good a cop as her Dad.

.

.

.

She doesn't know for sure, but she is feels that it was Dexter behind that polythene sheet…

She doesn't know for sure, but she has an inkling that her father knew…

Her doubts are confirmed when she doesn't see the 'tenant/girlfriend' in Harrison's birthday party. Lumen left after killing each one of the fuckers who did this to her. Deb will never have proof. She will never have evidence, but she knows that her brother was one of the Vigilante Killer.

.

.

_"You don't like Quinn much."_

_"I don't like Quinn at all… But, I want you to be happy, Deb."_

_"I'm happy." She pauses for a second. She doesn't really know whether she should say it. Or whether she shouldn't. She decides that it can be an open secret. "You must be too…" She looks at him pointedly. "Now, that this is all over, I mean…"_

.

.

.

She wonders what happened to the dog. She doesn't really want to wonder about Rudy (Brian) and him. She wonders whether her father knew. She wonders how he met Lumen… She wonders what happened to Lumen. She wonders whether he has done it before.

She wonders whether she should tell him that she knows. She wonders whether she is afraid to tell him. She wonders what she'll tell him.

She wonders about secrets.

Secrets that are not really secrets. Just facts. Just truth lying in the open for the whole world to see. You just have to look at it the right way. Secrets which are so obvious, so radiant that they are like big bright neon lights. Secrets hidden in plain sight…

.

.

.

_"There are no secrets in life: just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface."_

.

.

.


End file.
